


Guide Me Back, Safely To My Home (Where I Belong)

by Lothiriel84



Series: Another Nail In The Coffin [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Background Relationships, Families of Choice, Gen, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9563558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: You want a revelationSome kind of resolutionTell me what you want me to say(Florence + The Machine,No Light, No Light)





	

“Sherlock? Sherlock, are you still here with us?”

He blinks, as if awakening from deep slumber. John. Talking. Right.

“Of course I am,” he replies somewhat airily, belatedly realising he’s still holding Rosie’s favourite toy. “Where else would I be?”

“Dunno. Mind palace? Someplace we probably don’t want to know about?”

“Don’t be absurd, John.” He hands the toy back to Rosie, who starts babbling excitedly. “Tea?”

“You’ve been staring into space for about ten minutes, and now you’re offering to make tea? Are you sure you’re okay?”

He’s about to dismiss the idea as utterly ridiculous, then pauses, reconsidering. “Mycroft.”

John frowns, his gaze darting briefly to where his daughter is playing on the rug. “What about him?”

His fingers close around the handle of the kettle, in a pathetic attempt at anchoring himself to reality. Emotional context. He doubts he will ever learn how to deal with it.

“I don’t want him to get hurt,” he admits at length, so quietly he’s not even sure John can hear him.

“Sherlock, if this is about Greg...” John starts, only to trail off immediately after. He looks deep in thought for a moment, then promptly changes the subject. “Anyway, how’s Molly?”

It’s now his turn to furrow his brow. “She’s fine, I believe. What’s that got to do with my brother?”

“Nothing. I was simply asking about the health of your girlfriend.”

He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Fine, partner.”

“She is certainly not – that.”

“What is she, then?”

Sherlock gazes at the kettle as if it has suddenly turned into the most fascinating case of his entire career. “She’s just – Molly,” he elaborates, his hand vaguely gesturing into the air.

Then it finally hits him, what John is hinting at; sentiment may not be an advantage in itself, but if there’s one thing he’s learnt in the past few months is that they’re all better off for it. And so is Mycroft, no matter how hard he finds it to reconcile the idea of romantic attachment with what he thought he knew about his brother.

“Milk, no sugar?” he asks breezily, revelling in the way John smiles in return.


End file.
